by Rie Warren
Her head became lax, and her neck arched into my touch.
“What are you doing, Killian?” she whispered.
“Honoring you.”
Her breath hitched. Her lashes flickered.
Her moan caught in her throat.
Honoring Grace.
Because being with her, touching her . . . the fact she shared herself with me was an honor I didn’t deserve.
Hell, I was nothing but a used-up leatherneck, a gruff-voiced biker dude.
My fingers skimmed down her shoulders, over both arms. Hairs raised on the back of my neck when I reached her hands, and her palms turned to mine.
When I slipped my fingers through hers, I thought I’d fucking combust as heat ignited all over my body.
Pulling back through her fingers, I watched as her back arched. I smelled her feminine scent then—more honeyed than any sweetly flavored syrup.
I wanted to drench myself in her.
A half smile curled my lips, and my cock leaked a wellspring of precum, which dotted along her hip when I moved behind her.
My ragged breath shifted strands of her hair, and I coasted my fingertips over the round swell of her buttocks, dipping just slightly into the divide.
Her head lolled again, and she tipped her face toward mine.
“Where’s my rough man now?” She asked in a voice dripping with longing that echoed mine.
“I think you fucking tamed him.”
Following her smoky laughter, I swooped down to press my mouth upon hers.
The kiss slow and languid, we moved only our heads, angling deeper and tasting wider.
“Ung, god,” she breathed out when I pulled my head back.
Laying a hand on her waist, I followed the indent to her font. Then up over her belly that swelled to the point of her navel.
Chills raised tiny thrilling bumps on her pelvis and goddamn mirrored the goose bumps drilling up and down my spine.
My fingers glided higher, and I brushed the bottom globes of her tits.
Her head dropped down, and she watched me trace the backs of my knuckles so, so lightly over her beaded nipples.
And when she raised her eyes, I got lost in the drowsy arousal glowing from her irises.
Her body was plump in all the right places, lush and flushed and soft.
I stroked up the insides of her thighs but avoided the sleekest part of her, continuing my light touches until she exalted in her flesh too.
My hairy chest bumped her lush breasts, her nipples awakened and dotted high.
My groin rode along her heavy belly, my blood-engorged cock soldering a path across the top crest.
“I can’t take much more of this.” Her hands hung at her sides, fingers curled against her palms.
She swayed toward me, and I smiled. “You don’t have to.”
I set her on the bed. Drawing her legs off the edge, I kneeled between her thighs on the floor.
And I goddamn groaned low in my throat.
So much beauty.
Grace sat above me, looking down over the bowl of her belly.
She leaned back on her arms as soon as I snuck my tongue against her cunt.
Smiling again, I slid farther against her. Jesus. I wanted her to straddle my face, ride my mouth.
I couldn’t be slow once I got the first intoxicating taste of her inside my mouth.
Spreading her open, I swirled across each frill of flesh and drew the soft labia between my lips and along my tongue. Sipping and sluicing, I smothered her pussy in kisses, becoming primal at the hot nectar flooding faster the farther I reached.
I pulled her thighs apart in my hands, then my hands wandered to her belly.
I heard her keening.
Felt her legs trembling beside my ears.
And blood rushing to my head.
And lower where my cock raged thick and hard against my stomach.
Grace whimpered.
She kneaded her tits until her nipples pinged up between her fingers.
I wished I had two mouths. Five hands.
I’d do everything to her.
Everything for her.
I ate her greedily, keeping her on the edge before I drove her over that last plateau where she was strung taut between highest arousal and divine release.
She came when I tripped my tongue over the hood of her clit, pulsing fingers into the soft incendiary heat of her tight cunt.
Condom wrapper ripped open between my teeth, I quickly snapped the damn thing over my throbbing erection.
I Could Not Wait.
Bounding up, I swiftly arranged us so I spooned so close behind her.
A lift of her upper thigh, a shift of my groin, and—ahhhh, yes . . . fuck yes . . .–I pressed up inside her until my balls fucking shivered in the apex of her thighs. The weight of my nads collided with her clit, and she snapped back against me.
“Killian!”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Fuck me. I am so here.
I withdrew from her tight hold, one hand on her belly and the other over her breast.
My breath hard-driven and my lips at the side of her neck, I forged all the way inside again.
I had to close my eyes, because the sheer feeling of her clamping down around my cock absolutely spun me out of my head.
Hunching closer, I nearly crawled on top of her.
Nearly nailed her to the bed.
With my last ounce of control, I pulled out.
I lay back.
Grace made a dissatisfied sound, and I turned her to me.
“I’m not done yet. Get on my cock.”
Wide hazel eyes flickered to mine.
Body fertile and never more provocative, Grace hid a blush against her shoulder. “I’m too clumsy. Too big.”
“Fucking bullshit.” I stroked my dick and rested a hand wet from her on her hip. “Wanna see you.”
Hesitantly, then seductively, she straddled my cock and aimed my thick head at her opening. As she swiveled down my hard pole, her hands crashed down to grip against the muscles of my chest.
The first time I’d wanted her like this—for her comfort.
Now I wanted her to ride me—for her pleasure.
But, oh holy fuck, when she sheathed herself until her ass rested on my upper thighs and her clit brushed against my pubes . . . and her pussy swallowed me with a slick sucking motion, I goddamn hoped I could hold out against the tightening of my balls.
The convex shape of her belly mesmerized me.
Her big full tits bouncing hypnotized me.
She was hot, wet, tight . . . and beautifully ripe.
Bucking up, I notched my head back. My eyes cranked closed against the hot, hot, hot sight of her rocking up and down my cock in slickening undulations.
“Why do you keep shutting your eyes, Killian?” Her smoky voice husked right against my ear and her tits drabbled across my chest.
“Don’t want to objectify you.”
She gave a purely feminine gyration when she reached the bottom of my shaft again, and I felt it to my fucking toes that curled into the bedding.
“I like the way you look at me. And we’ve already had sex.” Her lips cruised up my throat, her teeth taking a stinging little bite of my Adam’s apple along the way.
The long hot slide of her pussy dragged to the head of my cock, and my eyes opened in slits. She hovered just there, balanced on the tip of my dick.
Relishing her heat and the slickness and the absolute breathless torture with which I held myself in check, I answered her back in a throaty tone, “We made love before.”
The most carnal smile lit her face in a seductress’s glow. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
Roaring up, I hauled her off me.
Her gasp made me think twice, but as soon as I set her on her back, she rolled her body in such a way there could be no motherfucking mistake.
I prowled between her legs, grabbing one thigh to scissor her ankle up and over my shoulder.
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Her belly rolled to the side. Her tits heaved up.
Hot fire flashed from her irises.
And I aimed my thick dick and rammed back inside.
“God!” Her hands clambered to my pistoning hips, nails clenching skin.
She bit into my bicep when I leaned even further over her, plowing her hard. Fucking her deep.
“This what you wanted?” I grunted, heat damn near searing my nerves.
“Yes!”
She jostled forward with each power-thrust.
And I hauled her right back.
Because to be nothing short of dick-deep inside her lush cunt was a waste.
Her head bowed back.
Her toes curled like mine had.
Her body tensed all over.
And she came on my rutting cock.
I bellowed, lost and found and fucked and coming all at the same time.
Jets of semen swilled up, and I hunched over her like an animal as cum plugged the end of the condom instead of coating her insides the way I wanted.
But goddam fuckitall.
I flexed and drove and bared my teeth, the final wildness unleashed.
Jesus.
“Jesus.” I whipped my head up, sliding off and over to make sure I didn’t crush Grace.
I placed my hand against her upper breast and wrapped my other arm around her. “You okay?”
“I’m not broken.” But her breathing was definitely still . . . breathy. “You’re not going to hurt me, like I said. And, mmmm”—she rolled into me—“I’ve never felt anything as good as you in all my life.”
Okay.
I could live with that.
If only that was that.
Drawing a blanket to my lap, I quickly discarded the condom and shoved the thing beneath the bed to clean up later.
Then I lifted higher against the pillows, pulling Grace up against my chest and settling the blanket over her too.
Her fingers spread across my torso, briefly tangling with my dog tags. “I didn’t notice these before.”
I tipped my head down, peering at her upturned face. “They were hard fought for.”
“You’re a brave man, Killian Slade.”
“Not as brave as the Marines I couldn’t get out alive.” And that cut into me too.
“Do you ever give yourself a break?” Her fingers dusted across my lips, and I nipped at them.
I squeezed her hip. “With you.”
She huffed gently. “Well that sucks because I’m not that easy.”
“You were a few minutes ago.” I braved a crude joke.
“Killian!” Her fist hit me on the chest.
I drew her clenched hand to my mouth, kissing across her knuckles.
A feeling tightened inside my chest.
I tamped the rash words down.
I leaned my head back.
I fucking reveled in the soft supple weight of Grace resting against me.
“I’ll figure it out. I’ll make it right for you and the baby,” I managed to say, biting back all the other things.
I didn’t say I’d make it right for us.
Maybe our connection was all down to dire circumstances.
Grace might not want me as much as I wanted her when all was said and done.
She remained so silent, I had to look at her again.
And she hastily hid a crestfallen expression I didn’t understand.
But then again . . . me and words. Me and women. Me and feelings.
I definitely sucked at all that, so I tried to brighten her the best way I could.
Jostling her gently, I said, “Look, I’ve been in touch with some friends in Washington—”
“D.C.?” Her eyes climbed to mine.
“Yeah. Finnegan’s not the only one with connections, and I’d wager mine reach much higher.”
“The safe house people?”
I nodded. “Going to get you free if it’s the last fucking thing I do.”
“Then I have to go back.” She struggled up to sitting, the blanket falling to her waist and revealing a lot of flesh that made me spring to attention again.
But this time was not about that.
“You’re not going back.” I was adamant.
She slid to the side of the bed, tossing me a look over her shoulder. “He already knows your name. He gave me leave to go away for the day. If I stay away . . . it just doesn’t work like that, Killian.”
“Get back here,” I growled out.
“I am not taking orders from another man in this lifetime.”
Her words set me back on my heels. Would’ve set me back on my heels if I’d been standing.
Rubbing my jaw, stamping down dominance, I chilled the fuck out, like I’d been told to do for months. “Sorry, Grace.”
“You should be.” Her stern words belied the sloop of her shoulders.
She sat down beside me.
She held my hands between her own, which were hardly big enough to cover the tats and my knuckles. “If you’re going to pull something off against Roark—”
“Oh, I’m gonna pull something off all right. Starting with his fucking head.”
“Are you going to listen to me or not?”
Holy shit. My woman was reprimanding me.
And I didn’t hate it one bit.
“Well, you have to be well-timed. He’s not exactly stupid. Egotistical . . . yes. I’m going to play my role, otherwise . . . well, his suspicions are already aroused.”
“Let me make one thing crystal clear to you.” I tried not to glare.
Tried to harness my anger.
My rage wasn’t directed at her.
My gaze drifting back to Grace, I took her shoulders in my hands then my palms settled along her neck. “I’m dead-fucking-set against this.”
“I know.”
“You’re killing me here.”
“It’s better than you getting killed out there.” Her chin notched up.
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“And you’re not a goddamn commodity.” Harsh as the words were, my voice pulsed with vitality.
Vitality I hadn’t felt in years.
Grace blinked back a whole load of tears. “I know,” she whispered.
“Final thing.” I took her unshed tears right into my heart.
“I don’t want you to risk your life like this.” Then I said what I’d sworn I wouldn’t. “Because I love you, Grace Delahunt.”
Chapter Twelve
GRACE
I LOVE YOU, GRACE Delahunt.
“How?” I asked.
How could he?
I was just . . . a whore. An ex-junkie. A pregnant prostitute.
“Can’t you feel it every time I touch you?” Killian asked, fingers making ever-smaller circles along my collarbone until he drew one fingertip up to brush against my mouth.
I felt it.
I’m honoring you, he’d said.
To my core, I’d felt what he’d been doing. The whispery touches. The barely kisses.
The way he made my heart stop and catch and hold and open just like my flesh flowered for him alone.
“Don’t want you to say it back.” He tilted my face up to his. “I just want you to feel it here.” He laid one palm on my breast above my heart. “And remember it here.” He pressed a soft sweet kiss to my head.
****
Once again, Killian took me back. When I’d been adamant about not saying bye to Mercy, he’d escorted me out through a side door so I didn’t have to enter the bar, which by that time had filled with the raucous noise of heavy drinkers.
In front of the brothel, he eased off his bike then helped me up.
He removed my helmet and tucked a lock of wild hair behind my ear.
The curl sprang back immediately, and he gave me a lopsided smile before sobering.
“Remember what I said.”
Heart and mind.
Heart and soul.
He touched me at my breast and temple, and didn�
��t touch me again. Just looked at me from beneath low black brows.
“Go now. Or I won’t be able to stop myself from wrangling you back on my bike and taking you away for good.”
I walked up the path, shoulders straight. Head high. Away from Killian and his big black motorcycle.
He spelled freedom.
I trudged back toward imprisonment.
I only dropped my shoulders, lost my starch, once the four walls surrounded me.
I imagined Killian stayed out there for longer than usual because I didn’t hear the distinct thunder-rumble of his Harley Davidson roaring into the distance.
And the thought of him out there clogged my throat.
Inside, I drew salivating glances from some of the johns waiting to get serviced. The place was still busy. Midnight was early for a business like this.
Thankfully, there was no sign of Roark, and exhaustion shook me where I stood.
Mistress Bunny gazed at me with what appeared to be sympathy. “How about a bite to eat?”
“I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
“If not for you, then the baby.” She came around her high podium where she conducted the business of selling our bodies on behalf of Roark.
With shiny high heels clacking on the floor, she strutted to the big kitchen, stopping to flirt with one client or another.
I tagged along, for no other reason than I just didn’t want to be left alone with my restless, despairing thoughts.
The gray-tiled and white-countered kitchen contained top-of-the-line appliances—again a far cry from the dingy hellhole that’d constituted the cooking quarters back at the White Lair. Used mostly during the day, the room now shined brightly, clean and empty of all others.
Bunny pulled out a chair, her blonde Marilyn Monroe wig wobbling as she gently ordered, “Plant your butt, sugar.”
I did as told, utterly dejected.
Issuing a long self-suffering sigh, she rolled her shoulders and then her head. With a careful plucking around her hairline, she tugged the shimmery wig off as well as a thin stretchy cap that’d plastered her real hair to her head.
My eyes widened in shock, though of course, Mistress Bunny was in many ways a costume of pure artifice, at least as far as I knew.
I’d never seen Bunny in anything but full dress, and there she stood with all the perfectly applied makeup . . . and her natural cropped-short hair.
She pressed a dramatic hand against her tipped-back forehead. “My, don’t it feel good to let your hair down?”